A Meeting of Brothers
by Caffeinated Star
Summary: Chris can't hide from fate. And fate seems to be twirled around his older brother.
1. A Glimpse into the Future

**A Glimpse into the Future**

_Big Brother's watching you. - George Orwell  
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_The Halliwell Manor was empty. It always was nowadays, when there weren't any tour groups filing in. The only thing that ever signified life was the small rays of light that entered, trying to rejuvenate the house.

Except that day, one man stood in the middle of the room, letting the light wash over him. His head hung low, and his face was obscured by shaggy brown hair. Green eyes stared straight down, examining a spot on the floor. He looked like a statue, almost a part of the Manor, except for the black clothes. Those stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the brighter, yet much dustier furniture. It was the only way to tell that the man didn't belong.

This man's name was Christopher Halliwell.

His mouth twisted at the thought of the last name. Halliwell. He was the last Halliwell. Technically, his brother was still alive, but no way in hell was he going to acknowledge that. As far as he was concerned, the day his youngest cousin died, so did his brother.

This place made him sick. It reminded him that he once did have a normal brother, and a – somewhat – normal family. Sure, it hadn't been perfect, but it was there. Now? It was gone. Everything was gone.

Except the house. It had been preserved, just like a fucking museum. Dust might have covered it, but otherwise, it was exactly the same. He walked around every inch of the area, and couldn't find one thing different. He came to a stop, as he spotted a rather large, discolored spot on the rug. That was his fault. He had been drunk and thrown up.

He was 16 at the time, and his grandfather had just died.

Wyatt, of course, had been nowhere in sight. But he did later give his bullshit righteous act on how he should take care of himself.

Vaguely, he wondered if Wyatt had already been working with the demons by then. Then again, did it really matter?

No, probably not. All of that was in the past. What mattered was the present, and what he needed to do to fix it. It seemed practically impossible.

Sighing, he started to climb the stairs. He went past the second floor, and straight up to the attic. For a moment, he stayed in the doorway, appraising the room morosely, and remembering the many days he had went up there, just to see if his family would visit him.

They never came.

Absently, he crossed the room to stand in front of the wooden stand, fingers already going to open the Book that usually sat on it, when he realized something.

The Book was gone.

Fuck.

The Book was _gone._

For a moment, he thought he might've been mistaken, that he was seeing things. He tried a spell to conjure up invisible objects, but nothing helped.

The Book was gone.

Wyatt had taken it.

Fuck.

"I was wondering when you would notice it."

Chris whirled around.

"Wyatt," he greeted coldly, already planning escape. His brother had already blocked off Orbing and Shimmering into the attic. He needed a different way.

"Great greeting, Chris. No, 'How are you?' or 'Where have you been?'" Wyatt said dryly, crossing his arms.

"I know where you've been, Wyatt. In the fucking Underworld, ordering around your fucking minions," Chris snapped, even as he edged a few steps back.

Wyatt's mouth tightened, a sure sign he was angry. "Well, what would you have me do? Stay up here, and wander the streets, all the while trying to avoid the Witch Hunters?" he retorted, eyes flashing.

"I'd rather you didn't consort with _demons_."

"I don't see anyone else trying to help us."

"They're trying to make you into the fucking King of All Evil, Wyatt!"

"So?" shrugged Wyatt. "What's the difference between Good and Evil?"

Chris stared at him, in a completely different light. "They killed our mother Wyatt. And our Aunts. Doesn't that count for something?"

"I believe we killed the ones that did that," said Wyatt coolly. "_Together._"

"Exactly! We killed them! That was our job! And now look at where you are," Chris gestured a hand at him, acting as if he had never seen anything worse in his life. "Ordering around demons, and playing at being their ruler."

"It wasn't the demons that killed Prudence, Chris," Wyatt said quietly. "It was the hunters. Don't tell me that every human should be considered Good. Don't tell me that you're the light shining on this fucked up Earth."

Shutting his eyes, Chris took another step back, not wanting to think about that day. When he had regained his composure he said, "Where's the Book, Wyatt?"

The older man arched an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Where's the book, Wyatt?" Chris repeated.

He shrugged again. "Don't know."

"Tell me."

"I told you, I don't know," Wyatt growled.

Chris bit his lip, mind racing. And then it occurred to him. "You really don't, do you?" Chris murmured. "You always were a terrible liar." Wyatt said nothing, allowing Chris to continue with his train of thought, while he paced back and forth. "And if you don't know, that means..."

Chris stopped his pacing, a small smirk forming on his face. "They took it, didn't they?" he laughed. "What irony! Your so-called demon friends took the Book of Shadows!"

"A minor miscalculation," Wyatt said, quoting something that they both knew Chris had said in the past when the Book had been stolen under their protective eye.

Shaking his head, Chris wondered how it had come to this: both of them on opposite sides of the room, glaring at each other. They had promised, once, that they would stick together, to the end of the world.

He guessed promises didn't mean much nowadays.

Taking another step back, Chris opened the glass doors, letting Wyatt stew in confusion on his side of the room. "You know, Wyatt, you're right," Chris said with a small smile on his face. "I'm not Good. If I was, I would have figured out a way to stop this long before now."

"There's nothing to fix, Chris," Wyatt said softly. "You can't fix Fate."

Chris nodded thoughtfully. "But I can try."

And with that, he jumped out the window, ignoring Wyatt's yelp of surprise. He felt the wind rush through his hair, and thought for the first time in awhile, things could get better.

Just before he Orbed, he thought that he could see a glimpse of Death.

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Note: I really need to stop writing so many one-shots. Reviews are welcome!


	2. The Proclamation

**The Proclamation**

_The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances; if there is any reaction, both are transformed. - Carl Jung_

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The room consisted of thirty uncomfortable, too-small chairs, desks, and a clean, green chalkboard. The walls around them were the white that painters used just when a new building was made; the floor was linoleum. The desks were pulled into a circle, and several people were discussing their supposed next plan of action.

Being back in his old school reminded Chris of how much he hated it. It was yet another reminder of when things were simpler, if not happier. It hadn't exactly been paradise though, with a neglectful father, a stressed-out mother, and a rebellious brother.

The voices of the people gathered drew him out of his memories.

"We need to find as many witches and other magical creatures before we launch an attack!" argued the Elder, Sandra, still in her robes like the other two Elders present. Chris had suggested they forgo those, and actually wear regular clothes, but they had almost murdered him when he made the proposal.

"No, we should attack him now, when he's only starting to gather strength," rebutted one of their new, yet still familiar, demon members, Cole Turner.

Chris still wasn't quite clear on how he escaped limbo. He doubted he would ever find out.

"Oh yes, let's listen to the ex-Source, who could very well be working with the present one," scoffed Seamus, the leprechaun's representative.

"I told you, I'm here to help," hissed Cole.

"Stop arguing, you two," snapped Bianca. They immediately quieted, once faced with the formidable ex-assassin.

It was rather interesting that the apparent 'Light Side' was made up of so many former 'Dark Side' members.

Maybe Wyatt was right, and there really wasn't such a thing.

"Chris, what do you think?"

Everyone's heads whipped around to stare intently at him. Not for the first time, Chris wondered why he accepted the job as leader.

"_Only a Halliwell can beat a Halliwell," _Prudence whispered in the back of his head.

Oh right. That.

"Chris?" Bianca repeated his name.

The last Good Halliwell shook out of his stupor, and took his legs off the desk. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Half of our forces will go out looking for new members, and a smaller group will infiltrate Wyatt's forces for a week, before coming back with information."

Everyone blinked at him, as if they were feeling stupid they hadn't thought of it. Of course, they began to argue once again over that plan. This was how all of their bi-weekly meetings ended up. Chris brought forth a problem they had to deal with, everyone argued about it for about half an hour, then he brought forth a conclusion which they would then argue over about the little details.

It was enough to make anyone want to join Wyatt's side.

"How many shall we send down to the Underworld?"

"One, we can't risk sending too many."

"No, two, what if one is killed?"

"Send a squad down, with various interests, maybe composed of five. They'll get assigned to different things and be able to gather information more efficiently."

"No, no, I bet he'll expect that!"

"How do we know that?"

"Chris, what do you think?" Bianca said loudly, once again breaking up the argument.

Chris rubbed his head, feeling the usual meeting migraine coming on. "Uhh..." he muttered articulately.

"Come on, boy, we need to decide, quickly!" the Elder Odin said impatiently.

"Shut up, let him think!" barked Cole.

"Why should I?" sneered Odin. "I'm still not sure why the _boy_ is the leader here. We should've chosen someone more responsible, with more experience."

"Only a Halliwell can beat a Halliwell," quoted one of the new male witches.

Chris blinked, his headache completely dissipating, as he examined the new man. Where had he heard that from? In fact... the only ones that had heard that were him, Prudence, and...

"Wyatt?" he murmured to himself, bemused.

Apparently, the witch had heard. Suddenly, an energy ball was running toward his head. He ducked, not even noticing as most of the room disappeared.

Great group they were.

Chris's head popped up over the desk to see Wyatt now standing in his regular form, next to two of his trusty demons. The only people on his side left were Cole and Bianca. Although Chris wasn't quite sure why Cole had stayed, it didn't matter at the moment.

"Bunch of cowards, eh, Chris?" commented Wyatt.

"Pot, meet kettle. Kettle, meet pot," mocked Chris. "I didn't know you needed help from demons to fight your battles."

"Same goes for you," Wyatt said, nodding at the two standing next to him.

"You tell those two to go, and I'll tell them to go," offered Chris, ignoring Bianca's urgent, "No!"

"Fine," Wyatt smirked, before turning to the demons. "Get out."

They nodded, and Shimmered away quickly.

"Cole, Bianca, go," said Chris calmly.

"No way in hell," hissed Bianca, with Cole nodding in agreement. Chris turned to stare coldly at her.

"Fine." She smiled triumphantly, until she was carried away in little blue lights. Chris turned to look at Cole, who he couldn't do anything but stare down.

The man shrugged, holding his hands up. "Your funeral," he said casually, before Shimmering after her.

Then it was just the two brothers left.

"So, we meet again, little brother," Wyatt said lazily.

"Does being some dark evil overlord automatically make you spout out dramatic lines from a movie?" Chris pondered aloud.

"Does being the leader of this so-called Resistance make you an even bigger smart-mouth?" retorted Wyatt.

Chris smirked. "Nah, I was born that way."

Wyatt returned the smirk. "And unfortunately, that will get you killed by someone."

"What, you don't have the guts to kill me?"

The atmosphere changed. The energy ball disappeared from Wyatt's hand, as he let it drop down to his side. "You think I'd kill you?" he said blankly.

Chris arched an eyebrow. "Are you saying you wouldn't?"

"I..." Wyatt hesitated. Then, his face hardened as he found his resolve. "If you don't join me, then yes I'd have to kill you."

"Great brother you are," said Chris sourly.

"Do you really think you can fight me?"

"I will if I have to."

"I've always been stronger than you. You've never won a fight against me," Wyatt pointed out. "Wouldn't it just be easier to help me out?"

"How's Leo doing? Still keeping him captive?" Chris asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Wyatt scowled. "Shut up, Chris. Like you care," he snarled.

"You're right, I don't," Chris lied, although he could feel the pang of remorse from not helping his father out. The other Elders had no clue, and he planned to keep it that way.

"Then why did you form this stupid group!" Wyatt practically shouted in frustration, one of the desks blowing up in his anger.

"Because it's the right thing to do!" Chris shouted back, as the smaller objects in the room began to shake.

"How do we know what the right thing to do is?"

"Our mother taught us! Do you remember? Do you even remember what she looked like? What she hated? What she liked? What her favorite food was? Do you?" Chris had been moving the whole time, so that he was now face-to-face with the elder Halliwell, who was a head taller than him.

Wyatt stayed silent.

"Do you?" he asked, instead of answering.

Chris recoiled, as if he had been slapped. Maybe he had, he didn't know what Wyatt's full range of powers were anymore.

"No," he finally answered. "I don't completely. And it pisses me off."

Wyatt nodded, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world. "I found the Book," he said quietly.

Chris blinked at the change of subject. Why would he be privy to that information?

"There's a picture of our family in there. All of us. The Aunts. The cousins. Mom. Dad." Wyatt's eyes clouded over in emotion that Chris hadn't been sure he still possessed. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, it went, to be replaced by rage and fury. "You always ask me why I went to the Underworld. Well, it's because no one up here did a damn thing. They all _died. _Died. As in, gone, and not coming back. And you know who did most of that? Not the demons, Chris. Oh no. It was the humans. All those so-called innocents? Yeah, I don't believe in that anymore." Wyatt turned his back, and began to walk away. He stopped, when he was at the opposite end of the room.

It always seemed to come down to this.

"Next time I see you Chris, we won't be brothers anymore. And next time, I promise, I will defeat you."

With that final statement, he Shimmered out.

Chris fell to the ground, taking deep breaths. As he calmed down, he had a terrible feeling.

He had a feeling that Death was watching over him.

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Note: I said I wasn't going to make another one, but I had a muse. Hope you enjoyed, and remember to review.


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